


Mistletoe Mischief Managed

by Nympha_Alba



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Christmas, First Kiss, Kissing, Multi, Office
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nympha_Alba/pseuds/Nympha_Alba
Summary: On the day of Pendragon Corporation's Christmas party, a prankster with magic has adorned the offices with enchanted mistletoe – mistletoe that appears at random and traps people underneath it until they've kissed…





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta P and to the mods for running this fun, low-stress fest. Happy Holidays!

Merlin takes a step back to admire his work. A sprig of mistletoe, adorned with a properly festive-looking red ribbon, appears in the doorway where it proceeds to twirl slowly, suspended in thin air. Merlin nods to himself. Yep, it's a nice little enchantment. It's entertaining enough that it will be interpreted as a prank, it will give people a few good laughs - but nothing too embarrassing. It's Christmas, after all, and in the end, it will hopefully have made a few people happy. 

With a bit of luck it will work for Merlin, too.

***

"Oh, _fantastic_. Fucking fabulous. Just what I needed this morning – or any morning, for that matter." Arthur glares daggers at Morgana, who shrugs.

"I could say the same, brother dear. Of all the people in the world to kiss, you're the one I'd have picked last." She glances up at the mistletoe above their heads and sighs.

Arthur fumes. He's already had an annoying accounter under the mistletoe with that minx Vivian from Accounting, but at least she isn't related to him by blood. "Is it you?"

The look in Morgana's eyes clearly states she doubts his sanity. "Is it me? Am I the prankster? Really, Arthur. You're generally thought to have a _brain_. Do you think I'd voluntarily put myself in..." She waves a hand back and forth between them. "... _this_ position?"

"Yes, alright," Arthur grumbles. "But you have magic - is there _nothing_ you can do about this? Work's been disrupted all morning."

Morgana is glaring back now. "I've tried. Honestly. Whoever the prankster is, they're good." A crowd has begun to form around them. Everyone wants to see where this will end. "Oh, for god's sake, Arthur! Let's just get it over with."

She grabs his face with both hands and presses an angry kiss to his mouth. He feels his hands flail. Then people are laughing and clapping, and the mistletoe releases its grip.

Arthur takes a step back, adjusts his tie and flees. His face is burning. When he catches the culprit he'll wring their neck.

***

Gwen stops dead and lets out an exasperated sigh. Oh, this stupid, _stupid_ mistletoe! It's impossible to get any work done. Everywhere you go there are kissing couples, and now her path is blocked – again. This time there's a group of onlookers, and when she identifies the couple, she can see why. It's Arthur and Morgana, and if it's possible to kiss as if you want to kill each other, that's exactly what they're doing.

Then Morgana releases Arthur and they give each other a murderous look. Applause and catcalls follow Arthur as he spins on his heel and walks away, and Gwen can't stop a grin.

She adores Morgana, and she likes Arthur too, but sometimes he really does have a stick up his bum.

Gwen hurries through the doorway, checking first that no mistletoe appears, and exhales. One down, three to go before she's safe in Gwaine's office with her stack of glossy brochures fresh from the printer's. 

The office is empty, so she just puts the brochures on his desk and scribbles a hasty note on a Post-It before she turns to hurry back to her own desk. With a squeak, she collides headlong with Gwaine in the doorway – and there they are, glued to the floor.

Gwen mutters something not very nice at the mistletoe that turns and twirls slowly, innocently, above their heads. 

Gwaine's eyes are amused as they meet hers, and she sighs inwardly. Fine, it could have been worse. It could have been Edwin, or Uther Pendragon himself. Gwaine, at least, is nice. And hot.

Over Gwaine's shoulder, Gwen sees Lance over by Mordred's desk and bites the inside of her cheek. This prank is well on its way to ruining her entire day. To think she was so happy this morning, dressing up for the Christmas party! All the joy drained out of her when she had to watch Lance kiss Elena, the pretty blonde from HR. He didn't exactly seem to mind. 

Why should it hurt so much? Gwen is painfully in love with Lance, with his warm brown eyes and devastating smile, but he's never given her reason to believe it's mutual. He's always been lovely to her, but he's like that with everyone, so who can tell? All she knows is that she'd give anything to kiss Lance like Elena did.

"Gwaine," she tries, "I'm in a bit of a hurry here, so...."

He grins down at her, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a head toss. "There, there, Gwen, it's only a kiss. It won't make you _very_ late, unless of course you swoon in my arms. Which wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibility." Maybe he sees something in her eyes then, because his smile turns soft as he leans down and murmurs: "No need to worry, Gwen. I'm a gentleman."

She gives in and laughs. "Alright, fine."

Somewhere at the back of her mind, where the mean and petty part of her lives, she hopes Lance is watching as Gwaine lifts her chin and kisses her.

The kiss is actually not unpleasant, not unpleasant at all. Gwaine's lips are soft and the fragrance of his aftershave is fresh and clean. And he does behave like a gentleman, Gwen has to give him that. He doesn't bend her backwards or try to pry her mouth open with his tongue, or any of the things she'd have suspected of him. There's only the gentle pressure of his lips against hers and his warm breath against her cheek before he pulls back and grins.

"There. It wasn't that bad, was it?" When she shakes her head, confused and a little stunned, he laughs. "Run along now. Here's hoping your next mistletoe encounter brings you the right person."

With eyebrows raised, he gives a faint sideways nod towards Lance, who seems frozen to the spot by Mordred's desk.

Gwen feels her cheeks heat. Is she really that obvious? If Gwaine knows, does everyone else know, too – including Lance? Oh, god, the mortification.

"Don't worry," Gwaine murmurs. "I won't tell." He pushes his hands into the pockets of his well-cut trousers and saunters around the desk, humming _All I Want for Christmas is You_.

Gwen closes her eyes and counts to ten. She _will_ survive today. She will.

***

"Oh," Morgana says when she and Gwen find themselves stuck face to face in the doorway to Morgana's office.

Most people are wary of Morgana Pendragon, if not downright scared of her, but Gwen isn't one of them. After three years as Morgana's assistant, she knows that Morgana is much nicer than she'll generally let on, much kinder than people give her credit for.

"I hope you don't mind too much," Morgana says now, eyeing Gwen with genuine concern. "Kissing me, I mean."

"Is it your enchantment?"

Morgana lifts her eyes to the heavens, or at least to the tiresome sprig of mistletoe. "How many times do I have to answer that question? No, darling Gwen, this is _not_ my enchantment, and believe me, if I could break it I'd have done so several hours ago!"

Gwen suppresses a smile. She can see how much it annoys Morgana, not being able to break the spell.

"Well, then," she says lightly. "I guess we don't have a choice. And the answer is no, by the way - I don't mind kissing you. Not one bit."

"Oh, good." The grin that spreads over Morgana's face is truly wicked. "But be warned - I'm going to grope you like an octopus! It's your own damned fault for being so cute."

"You're not too bad yourself."

The truth is Morgana is stunning, and she knows it. Now, she smiles like a cat and leans forward, and an unexpected little thrill runs through Gwen head to toe. Maybe somewhere deep inside, she's wanted to do this for quite some time.

A strand of Morgana's black hair falls silkily over Gwen's cheek, light as a whisper. Her lips are soft and taste of expensive gloss. The tips of their tongues meet, making Gwen draw a breath, but when Morgana's hand slides down to pinch Gwen's bottom, Gwen slaps it away and they part, laughing. There's applause and whistles from outside the office, and Mordred calls: "Don't stop on our account!"

Gwen sticks her tongue out at him, but she can't help noticing Lance who sits with his head bent, looking distinctly unhappy.

She licks Morgana's lip gloss from her mouth and cherishes the warmth of triumph in her chest. 

There. That's for kissing Elena.

***

Morgana touches up her makeup, smoothes down her hair and straightens her back. This has been an annoying day and now she's a woman on a mission. If the ridiculous prankster won't end the enchantment, at least she will find the person she truly wants to meet under the mistletoe.

She runs her hands down her skirt and clears her throat. She isn't used to getting nervous about anything, but Leon, lovely Leon with his kind eyes and contagious laugh, makes her blurt out stupid things and drop whatever she's holding.

I suppose this is it, she thinks with a wry smile. I think I'm really in love.

She finds him by the printers in the narrow corridor between the Accounting and IT departments and stops to look at him before he notices her. A strand of hair is falling down into his eyes as he taps his sheaf of paper against the copier lid to align it. Then he looks up, spots her and smiles, and if she didn't have her magic in check, the corridor would be a-flutter with colourful butterflies, a-whirl with pink hearts and a-chirp with fluffy little birds.

Out of nowhere a sprig of mistletoe appears, dangling from the ceiling in an invisible thread.

Morgana smiles. If it hadn't appeared, she'd have created one herself. _Thank you, prankster._

She moves forward to stand underneath it. Leon drops the printout on top of the copier, takes the three steps that separate them and pulls her to him, kissing her until she feels faint and her knees buckle.

Neither of them notices the mistletoe vanishing. They're still kissing. 

***

Gwen needs coffee badly and her feet are killing her. What an idiot she was not to put on a pair of flats and change shoes later! The coffee, however, can be achieved.

But she's not the only person craving coffee. Over by the nespresso machine, Lance looks up when she enters the staff room. He looks tired and a bit tense, his eyes even darker than usual. He gives her a tight smile.

"Can I make you one?"

"Oh, yes, please." She sinks down on the sofa, stretches out her legs and grimaces. "These shoes are vile, horrible things and they'll end up in the bin when I get home!"

Lance's smile broadens, turns more genuine. "I have to say they're very nice to look at."

Gwen perks up a little. "Thanks. That doesn't change the fact, though! They're going in the bin."

Lance hands her the coffee, makes one for himself and comes over to sit beside her. "Why don't you take them off for a minute?"

Gwen shakes her head. "If I take them off I might never get them back on."

She leans back and takes a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes, but opens them again at a choked noise from Lance. "What is it?"

When he turns his face up she does too, and there is the familiar sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, dancing happily in the draught.

She groans. "I thought it was only doorways that needed avoiding."

Lance sets his cup on the table and meets her eyes. "Do you want to avoid it? Because I don't. Not this time."

His voice is low, and is it just her imagination or is there a tiny tremor in it? Gwen's nerves began to sing, heat springs to her face and her espresso cup rattles on its saucer. She hastily puts it down. "No, I mean, I… no."

Damn the man, why does he turn her into jelly? His hand is warm as it cups her face and his thumb strokes her cheekbone. Her eyes fall closed and she's sure there's a dopey smile on her lips as they meet his. 

The kiss tastes of coffee, the prankster is forgiven and the world is beautiful.

When Lance pulls back, Gwen isn't ready to let go of this wonderful feeling just yet. She takes both his hands in hers and tells him gravely: "I don't think the mistletoe will be satisfied until you've kissed me again."

He leans in and obliges.

***

It's late afternoon and already dark outside, and people are leaving for the Christmas party. Merlin lingers. He hasn't seen Arthur leave yet, and there's still something he wants to get out of his enchantment.

It's worked well, mostly, even if it's been a nuisance to have to keep dodging Mordred all day. But seeing Lance and Gwen go all tense and dark-eyed watching the other kiss other people wasn't fun at all, and Merlin wants to erase that part of the day from his mind. He hurt two of the best people he's ever known, and even if it was unintentional and even if they did find each other in the end, it's not Merlins proudest moment.

When the office has gone quiet, he turns his computer off and sets off in search of Arthur.

***

Everyone has left for the Christmas party and Arthur ought to leave, too, but he's not in the mood just yet. The Christmas party is always a lavish, sparkly affair; the only time of the year when Uther splashes out, but Arthur doesn't feel all that festive. Thankfully the venue is the ballroom at the Pendragon-owned Hotel Camelot right across the street, so he can put off leaving a bit longer. It'll only take him three minutes to get there.

The open-plan office is dark outside his glass cubicle. The only light comes from the Christmas tree at the other end of the room and a string of LED lights that someone's draped over their screen.

Out of the corner of his eye he catches movement, and then Merlin stands in the doorway, Merlin from IT who makes Arthur's heart skip a beat, Merlin who is so gorgeous that Arthur keeps making up things that are wrong with his computer.

"Everyone's headed off to the party," Merlin says, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. "Are you coming?"

Arthur looks at the mop of black hair, the sharp cheekbones and the pretty mouth. He's lost count of the number of times when he's called Merlin just to watch him work, the slender fingers tapping at the keyboard. Merlin has always been perfectly nice about it, even when he must have known there was nothing wrong with the computer, but somehow Arthur has never gathered courage enough to ask him out. 

Where is that annoying mistletoe that's kept popping up everywhere all day? Now that Arthur could actually make some use of it, it's nowhere to be seen. 

"Yeah," he says. "Just finished."

He clicks off his computer and takes his jacket from the back of his chair, willing the mistletoe to appear. Merlin is still blocking the way when Arthur reaches the door, seeking Arthur's eyes without moving. Is it possible that he is waiting for the mistletoe, too? Is it possible that he…?

Arthur stops and looks up. No mistletoe. He waits. Merlin doesn't move. Still nothing.

***

Merlin stops in the doorway to the office. Arthur is at his desk in a circle of light from the desk lamp, impeccable in crisp white shirt, waistcoat and tie, with his jacket hanging from the back of his chair and the blond hair shining. Even when he looks tired, like now, he's gorgeous. It makes Merlin's heart ache a little.

All of a sudden, Merlin feels deflated. The whole point of his enchanted mistletoe was for him to catch Arthur underneath it in the end, but it's quickly losing its appeal. He still wants to kiss Arthur more than anything, but he'd like it to happen because Arthur really wants it, not because he's forced to by some stupid, childish prank.

Merlin might just as well go over to Hotel Camelot and get drunk.

"Everyone's headed off to the party," he says. "Are you coming?"

For a second Arthur looks as if he'll say no, but seems to change his mind. "Yeah. Just finished."

He turns off the computer and puts on his jacket, and when he's right in front of Merlin he stops, glancing up at the doorframe as if he's expecting to see something there. Like a sprig of mistletoe. 

Merlin's heart leaps in his chest. He can conclude two things, then: one – Arthur does want to kiss him. Two - he was going to use the mistletoe as an excuse.

Arthur tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "It's you, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"You have magic. You're our prankster, aren't you?" 

Merlin considers denying it, then shrugs apologetically. "I've ended the enchantment now, though," he adds.

The light from the Christmas tree and the LED string gives Arthur stars in his eyes. "Pity," he says. He looks almost shy.

It gives Merlin the courage to say: "You don't need the excuse of mistletoe, you know."

Arthur holds his gaze steadily. "Neither do you. "

Merlin's heart begins to pound and his fingertips are cold.

Arthur smiles a little. "And that's a pity, too, really. Mistletoe – when not enchanted – appeals to my sense of romance."

Merlin smiles back, his body zinging with anticipation. "Well, then… let me see what I can do."

The mistletoe appears above their head, complete with a red silk ribbon.

"Now that's better," Arthur murmurs and steps closer, so close Merlin can feel his warmth.

His hand touches Merlin's cheek and cups the back of his neck, his thumb stroking Merlin's earlobe. It feels astonishingly intimate for a first kiss when they hardly know each other, but amazingly right, too. Merlin's eyes close.

The warm pressure of Arthur's lips on his own makes him dizzy, and he slides his hands in under Arthur's jacket. They're pressed against each other chest to knee with Merlin's back against the doorframe when their tongues find each other, and Merlin can't hold back a breathy little noise.

When they stop for air, Arthur leans his forehead against Merlin's. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Merlin smiles weakly. He's glad the doorframe is propping him up. "About as long as I have?"

Arthur laughs, part breath and part voice. "I have a good mind to just skip the party and get you in a taxi back to mine."

Merlin shivers head to toe, clutches at Arthur's hips and kisses him again. Then: "You'd be missed at the party. I think we have to go."

"Maybe," Arthur murmurs, his mouth moving down Merlin's neck until he moans. "Well, I suppose you're right. We should go." He takes a step back, his hair mussed and his mouth blurred from kissing. "But you're coming back with me afterwards...?"

Merlin slides his fingers between Arthur's and smiles. His heart is still pounding. "Not even wild dragons could stop me."

He doesn't bother to remove the mistletoe. It's still there in the doorway when they leave, twirling slowly in the draught.


End file.
